


The Man Comes Around

by mathildia



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Canonical Character Death, Dark One Cora, Handcuffs, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:02:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5245907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathildia/pseuds/mathildia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I ship hook so hard with dick!james who’s cruel nasty and sadistic, and then meeting charming in storybrooke and being like?????</i>
</p>
<p>Aka The other Captain Charming story</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man Comes Around

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in response to brilliant anon tumblr prompt above. It was over a few chats, but this is the gist. (We had already christened the original James dick!James.) 
> 
> Thank you anon. This is for you.

Hook laughed, throwing his head back, raising his ale mug, and slamming it back on to the tavern table with a foamy splatter. Another successful run made for Pan. Another step closer to getting what he wanted. He was bubbling with triumph. Thrilled. Ready for anything. Hoping for something.

The hand on his shoulder and the lips at his ear, when they appeared, were not unwanted or unexpected. This was his kingdom, after all. James. Prince James. Hook felt the thick, leather-clad thigh against his hip and shivered, mouth dry.

James murmured, “I know a pirate who’s been up to no good when I see one. Will you take your punishment in the alley? Or would you prefer I fuck you over this table and make you scream in front of all of them?” 

Hook tipped his head back to look at James. His mouth shook. He couldn’t speak. “Sire,” he managed on a whisper, eyes going wide.

“Forget that, I didn’t mean for you to decide,” said James. “Just follow me.” And James turned away, leaving Hook panting.

He recovered himself quickly. He’d done so before. “Excuse me, lads,” he announced buoyantly to the assembled company of crew and revellers. “I have a bit of business to attend to.”

None of them had noticed James. They cheered as Hook scraped his chair back, turned about and made for the door. His dick was hard before his feet were on the cobbles.

*

“Storybrooke,” Cora had said. He was happy that she was happy. Life was a little easier, when she was happy.

They docked. Plans were made, plans were changed. She reunited with her daughter. He skinned his Crocodile, eventually. And when Cora became the new Dark One a great deal of Storybrooke ended up a smoking ruin. But they washed up in the Rabbit Hole celebrating triumph, with a cowed, resigned Evil Queen, her confused son, a recently re-animated dragon and a mixed collection of halflings and monsters he recognised from the forest.

Hook leaned into Cora. He had been seated with honours, at her right hand. Life was going to be sweet now, he was sure of it. “Where’s, uh, where’s James?” he whispered.

“Who, dear?” Cora said, her glittering green expression, irritated. She had been talking to the miniaturised giant she’d insisted on bringing along. She did not appreciate the interruption.

“James. King George’s son,” he gestured to George a little way down the table. “I’m sure I’ve seen him about the place. He’s one of ours. Has our way of thinking. And he can be rather entertaining.”

Cora looked down, directly at Hook’s crotch. She missed little. “I see,” she said, with a small smirk, and then leant over to call down the table, “George! I say, George! What happened to your wretch of a son?”

George looked up. “Him?” He made a pained expression. “He’s in the cells, I believe. He’s going to need talking round.”

“Really?” Hook frowned, not sure why James would need such assurances. Nevertheless, it seemed a golden opportunity to get one of the most thrilling people he knew alone. He stood up. “Then let me speak to him.”

Cora waved him away and Hook felt his breathing quicken. _Oh, he had missed him_. His dick was hard before his feet were on the sidewalk.

*

As soon as they were behind the tavern, James grabbed Hook’s collar in both hands and slammed him up against the wall. Hook moaned, rolling his head back, showing his neck. “Oh yes,” he breathed. “Yes. Do it.”

“Eager as ever, pirate?” James said, touching Hook’s bared neck with three fingers, tracing his pulse, softly, teasing. “You really are such filth, aren’t you?”

“Aye, Majesty. That I am.” He gasped a ragged breath, then managed a wink. “Spit in my mouth, sire.”

James laughed. He slipped his fingers over Hook’s jaw and pried his mouth open. Hook’s breathing stuttered, and James made him wait a moment like that, lips wide, before spitting viciously onto Hook’s tongue. Hook groaned with pleasure as James pressed his mouth closed again, running the pads of his fingers over Hook’s lips. “Any more demands?” James said, sounding amused, like perhaps, tonight, he was planning to indulge every one of the pirate’s whims. 

Hook found James’s eyes and gazed into them. He shivered for want of it. “Hurt me,” he said, soft, lips moving against James’s warm fingers. “Hurt me and use me, sir.” He lowered his head. “Majesty.”

“Cute,” said James, lifting Hook’s chin so he found his eyes again. “But if you want things from me, you should be on your knees, begging your prince for such favours.”

Hook dropped like a stone.

*

In the Sheriff’s station, Hook stared at James through the bars of his cell. He looked different somehow - like his fire was out. When James looked at him, he looked puzzled. 

“So, what’s all this, mate?” Hook said, propping himself up on the desk to look at James, stretching out his long legs and hoping he looked just as appealing as something to ruin as ever he had. James was handcuffed and the sight of that wasn’t unappealing - although he could think of a better use for those cuffs. Cora had told him all about the curse, that James would have believed himself someone else for years, but all the memories had been restored now, so why was James looking at him like he had no idea who he…

“Get away from him!”

_Oh._ Hook glanced lazily over at the two women in the cell next to James’s. He recognised them: Emma Swan and Mary Margaret. He leered, happy to see them locked up again. “Oh, of course,” he drawled. “You two again. It’s like you can’t keep away from me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Emma. “Believe me, if I had any choice about looking at you right now, I’d take it.”

“Never mind that, Emma,” said Mary Margaret, pushing forward. “What do you want with David?”

“David?” Hook looked at James. “Who’s David?”

“I am,” said James.

*  
“And you can kiss my boots while you’re down there, pirate,” James said. And Hook moaned as he did so. Lips to the leather, dick dripping inside his breeches. He kissed the toe of each one, licking over them, liking the sour taste and liking what it meant to press his mouth reverently to the lowest part of his Prince.

“What will it be this time?” said James as Hook lifted his head, sitting back on his heels. “Are you going to scream for me? Scream and beg and cry? You are so pretty when you cry.”

“Thank you, sir, yes. Yes I want to. Make me.”

James smiled. “I do like an invitation,” he said as he grabbed Hook hard by the hair, and sharply crunched his knee into Hook’s face. Hook cried out, head going back and hitting the wall behind him, blood flying. When he looked back at James he had a split lip and a bruise blooming across his cheek. “Nice,” James murmured, touching the blood.

Hook was panting from pain and arousal. Hips jerking. He stared at James, who still had fingers wound in his hair. “More,” Hook said, a rasping whisper. “Please, more.”

James laughed, loud in the tiny alley and kicked out at Hook again, hitting his shoulder, twisting, so Hook crumpled into the gap between them. James dropped onto Hook’s body, straddling his waist. “Well then, my love,” he said, pushing Hook’s chin up with the heel of his hand, “is it time for the knife?”

Hook’s eyes went wide.

*  
“David?” said Hook, straightening up and approaching the cell. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but your name’s James. You want me to get you out of there, sire? You want some fun?” He picked up the keys to the cells from the desk, slipping the handcuff key into his pocket.

When he opened the cell door, David said, “What are you doing?” And from the cell next door Emma Swan and Mary Margaret shouted other things. Hook closed the door behind him. David stood up, concerned, his hands cuffed behind him making his chest look big and broad and good. 

Hook wetted his lips and shrugged, crowding David up against the brick wall of the cell. “What do you want me to do, sire? You know I’ll do whatever you want. Although -“ he bit his lips, taking a shuddering breath, “- I do like it if you let me choose sometimes, make me beg to be used.”

David frowned. “What?”

“But first,” said Hook, so close now their chests were pressed together, “it’s been too long since we…” And Hook leant in, hands on David’s upper arms, and he kissed him.

*

“Tie my hands, sire. Please.” Hook was writhing under James thighs, half-afraid he could come untouched before James even got the knife from his belt.

James laughed at him again, and paused. He left the knife and, instead, pulled Hook’s scarf from his neck. He sat back a little, grabbed Hook by the shoulders and yanked him up. “I’m going to hurt you so much,” James whispered against Hook’s lips. And then he kissed him, hard and nasty - working his tongue against the broken part of Hook’s lip until Hook moaned. They were both hard, dicks crushed together, as James brought the scarf around behind Hook and lashed his wrist to his hook. 

Hook struggled a little, testing how well he was held. “Sire,” he gasped. “Majesty. Thank you, thank you.”

James leant back. “Gods above,” he said, his voice full of genuine awe. “You really are fucking perfect, aren’t you?” And he punched Hook hard on the temple sending him smacking back onto the cobbles with a yelp of pain.

James pulled his knife, dropping down onto Hook’s body. He brought it up between their faces and showed it to Hook. Hook’s mouth opened a little, his breathing fast and shallow. “Kiss it,” James breathed. “Kiss it and tell me where.”

Hook swallowed and lifted his head a fraction, pressing his lips to the blade. “Face,” he said quietly, lips moving against the cold metal. “My face, then my chest, then between my legs.”

James sighed at the suggestions, then cocked a half-smile and sat back a little to backhand Hook hard across the face, catching the bruise and making him yell. “Fucking filth, thieving peasant scum. No fucking manners. Ask me again.”

Hook blinked. His eyes wet, mostly with surprise and shame. “I’m sorry, sire. I’m sorry. Please, hurt my face. And if you will, then my chest, and then, I beg of you, please, between my legs. Hurt me there, sire, majesty. Hurt me. I need it.” He was pressing every word out between broken, desperate breaths. 

“Better,” said James, dropping down onto Hook’s body. “It will do you to remember I am your master and your lord.” And he clamped a hand over Hook’s mouth and turning his head to the side. With the other, he brought the knife back to Hook’s cheek and drew it over the bruise. Hook hissed as James cut him there. “One day,” James went on, “I will be your king. When that happens, when my father is gone, you will find yourself in my dungeons.” Hook’s hips jolted. James slipped back and ripped Hook’s shirt open, tiny pearl buttons clattering. He brought the knife down, touching the tip to the place over Hook’s heart. “You will be kept in my dungeons.” He pushed, letting the knife breaking Hook’s skin. “Oh yes, there will be no more piracy, no more ship, no more crew, no more working for Pan, you will be mine and only mine.” James drew the knife down and made a line, curled it at the end to make a letter J. There were faint remains of these letter Js all over Hook’s body. The one on his left buttock was permanent. James had done that deep enough to leave a lifelong scar. Hook writhed and rolled his head, moaning behind the hand that stopped his mouth and silenced his begging, and James leant down and worried the cut open with his mouth.

James lifted his head, blood on his lips. “You’re turning me on, pirate. You know what that means.”

*

David kissed Hook back, but then, when Hook pulled out of the kiss, he said, “Who are you?”

Hook frowned. “You know who I am, you bastard. Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not,” David gasped. “I’m not doing anything.” From the other cell Mary Margaret was howling something. 

Hook ignored her. He shoved a thigh between David’s legs. He was no stranger to sexual intimidation. But this felt odd. And what felt even more odd was the hardness his thigh had found. “David, is it?” he drawled. “Aye, perhaps you’re right. Perhaps you’re not him after all. I never knew him get turned on from being the one thrown up against the wall.” He pressed his face closer. “You want to grind that down on me leg, darling. Because you’re as pretty as, what’s it got to be, your twin brother?”

David sighed softly and pressed his hard dick against Hook’s thigh, but his jaw was high and firm. “Get off me. Give me a sword and we can settle this like men.”

“Men do what men do, love,” said Hook, stroking both David’s nice biceps. “Now, stop pretending you’re not happy right where you are and tell me what happened to James? Where is he?”

“He’s not,” David spluttered as Hook lifted his thigh higher, “he’s not here.”

“Course he is, everyone from the Enchanted Forest is here.”

“Not James,” David said. “James is dead.”

*  
“No,” said Hook. “No, no, not that.”

David stuck his knife back into his belt. “Enough games, you know what I want.”

Hook shivered. “What? No. I don’t want that. Just hurt me. Come on me if you want that, come on my face, but don’t do that.”

James jammed a hand over Hook’s mouth. “Don’t start. We both know you want it. You said between your legs. I’m just giving you what you begged me for.” He started wrenching at Hook’s breeches, dragging them down. Hook pulled at his bound wrists, but it was no use, James was strong and determined. His mouth was free, so he could beg, but James ignored him. He ripped Hook’s breeches down to the knees, leaving him mostly naked on the alley floor. 

James had oil, he always had oil, and then he had two oily fingers working their way into Hook, and Hook was writhing, “Please, sire,” he moaned, “not that, please majesty.” But he was bucking on to James’s fingers and in another moment, James had stopped his pleading and turned it into moans of pleasure. 

“Always have to pretend you don’t want it. You’ll beg for the knife, but you claim you don’t want my dick.” He stroked inside Hook again, two slick fingers over and over, teasing but still enough to make Hook sob. “And yet, anyone can see how much you want it,” James said, opening his own breeches with his spare hand.

Hook opened his legs wider, couldn’t help himself. He was cold inside, cold with shame. Being fucked like this, it wasn’t right. James was going to fuck him on the filthy cobbles in the this filthy alley, with blood on his face and James’s own initial carved into him. None of this was new, and yet, it still shamed him. Shamed him most of all how much he liked it.

James pulled his fingers free and lined himself up. “Ask for my dick, filth,” he said, low, half a snarl.

“No.” Hook shook his head, rolling back against the cobbles, mud and filth matting in his hair. James grabbed his chin.

“You will ask for it. And you will ask nicely.” Hook felt something cold then, at his throat. James’s knife. He shivered.

“Don’t” Hook said and was rewarded by a prick of the knife at the skin of his neck. The pain made him gasp. His hips jolted. He couldn’t control it. James was ghosting the head of his dick at Hook’s twitching, needy hole. “Please,” he said, just mouthing the shape of the word. “Please, please.”

“That’s right,” said James, letting Hook lower his chin a little. “Now, please what?”

“Please fuck me, sire,” Hook choked out, his hips canting, trying to get to James’s dick. “Please, now, hard. Majesty, please.”

James laughed. “Good enough.” And he did it. He fucked into Hook, there and hard. Sudden and quick and ruthless, keeping the knife at Hook’s throat and slamming into him as far and as roughly as he could and over and over.

Hook opened his eyes and looked up from the gutter. He was crying. He saw stars.

*

“No he isn’t,” Hook snarled.

“I assure you-“ David said, his sentence cut short as Hook smacked his fist into the side of David’s head. David fell to the floor with a crash. Mary Margaret screamed and Hook heard Emma Swan yell, “What did you do? What did you do to my father?”

But he ignored that, strange as it was, because David was on the floor, groaning. Hook kicked him hard in the kidneys, then fell onto his body. Tears were blurring Hook’s eyes as he found David’s face, found his mouth, kissed him. “James, James. No,” Hook said. Kissing and kissing.

“I’m not…” David was woozy, half kissing him back, half pulling away. “I’m not him. I’m his brother like you said.”

“Hit me,” Hook moaned. “Please, please, if I uncuff you will you hit me?”

David flashed his eyebrows. “You bet I will,” he said.

Hook took the handcuff key from his pocket, reached behind David.

_Click._

**Author's Note:**

> [My tumblr](http://mathildia.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [my tag for this fic](http://mathildia.tumblr.com/tagged/dick%21james)


End file.
